


A healthy dose of Denial never hurt anyone

by crystalklances



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Drunken Confessions, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Jock Keith, Keith is soccer captain, Kinda?, M/M, Minor Hunk/Allura, Miscommunication, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Smitten Keith (Voltron), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, again a little in the beginning, attentive keith, someone give Keith the boyfriend of the year award, tagging just in case, think of it like in a romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 02:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12596356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalklances/pseuds/crystalklances
Summary: There was a cough behind them. Keith and Lance both turned around to see that the other players were looking at them in amusement.One of the guys said, “Look, we’re happy for you, but you two are giving us diabetes.”“Yeah, not everyone here is into PDA. Get a room.”“What? What’re you talking about?” Keith asked, furrowing his brows.“We know you’re dating but you don’t have to be glued to each other all the time.”“We aren’t dating!” Keith and Lance both said at the same time.----Or: 5 times Keith and Lance deny they are boyfriends, and the time they finally don't





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was born out of nowhere and with nothing but selfindulgence, but quickly became my most favorite piece I've written as I was excitedly writing and editing it over the course of several days, working on nothing else. I hope you'll like it, too!
> 
> It's already in the tags, but I guess I'm giving a tentative warning for alcohol in section 5. No one's age is stated in text but I picture them as their later years in college, so that's why I didn't tag a warning.

1.

Keith would have loved nothing more than to drown out whatever it was that Coach Kolivan was telling the team about their current performance, while Shiro, the assistant, gave comments here and there. But Keith was the captain of the soccer team, and as such, he had a certain responsibility to always be in the loop about things and take charge.

Usually, that was fine; he took his job seriously, even if he had had a bit of trouble accepting the new title, at first. Plus, they were in the middle of preparing for the next important match of the season.

But that afternoon, his mind kept wandering.

When Kolivan was finally done talking and dismissed the team, it was with a sigh that Keith entered the locker room along with the rest of his teammates to shower.

Practice had been harsh as it was most of the time; his muscles felt sore, and he really needed to wash all of the sweat off. First of all, because it would feel gross once it got cold. But also because he was meeting up with Lance after practice, and Lance always complained if Keith didn’t shower after working out. It was simple math, beating two birds with one stone. That’s what Keith told himself, at least. It totally wasn’t because he always felt this strong urge to please and impress Lance, which he didn’t have with anyone else.

He let out a soft groan when the stream of hot water hit his skin. Keith didn’t mind cold showers, but there was always something especially pleasant about turning up the heat as much as humanly possible.

As always, Keith used a simple 2-in-1 shower and hair product for athletes to wash his body and his hair at the same time. It was something Lance always scolded him about, but Keith just rolled his eyes at it. There was nothing wrong with the product, it was simple and had a fresh smell, and it did the job.

There was also that for all of Lance’s complaining, he seemed to like the scent on Keith, always nuzzling his nose into Keith’s hair in the back of his neck when they sat close together. Not that that was important or that Keith enjoyed it or anything.

Once he was done with his shower, Keith dried off and walked back to his locker to get dressed. On most days, he went ‘fuck it’ and threw on sweatpants in the morning because it always felt weird to wear jeans again after practice. But today was not one of those days.

When he was fully clothed again, he packed his gym bag and was about to grab his red and white team jacket—only to find that it wasn’t where it should have been on the hook.

His hand froze in mid-air.

“Where the fuck is my jacket?” Keith asked into the room.

“I don’t know,” Rolo, one of his teammates, replied. “I don’t remember you wearing it before practice started.”

“I’m pretty sure I had it. I mean, I wear it all the damn time.” Keith frowned. “Who the fuck stole it?”

“I don’t think anyone would steal it. Definitely no one from the team.”

“Yeah, you probably forgot it somewhere or didn’t put it on today in the first place.”

Keith still thought it was odd, but there was no use trying to argue with the guys. They were right—none of them had a reason to steal his jacket. Everyone had their own jacket with their name and number, after all. And no one from the outside would have had access to it.

He shouldered his bag and left with everyone else. Outside, Lance was leaning against the wall, smiling at the soccer players coming outside, and Keith’s lips curled into a smile as if on auto-pilot. Lance always had that effect on him with just his mere presence.

Somehow, something seemed out of place with the picture, though.

It wasn’t until Lance stepped forward to meet Keith in the middle that Keith realized _what_ it was—namely that Lance was wearing his jacket.

“Oh,” Keith said lamely. “ _That’s_ where my jacket went.”

“Yeah. You left it in my room earlier, so I thought it was only fair I got to steal it.” Lance grinned innocently. “Why? Want it back?”

“Nah. Keep it.”

Truth be told, Keith liked the sight of Lance wearing his jacket. He couldn’t quite explain why that was, but it made his heart jump around excitedly and perform somersaults in his chest. That was a normal thing between friends, right? Because that’s all they were. Friends. Nothing more.

“Awesome.” Lance was still grinning and fell into step right beside Keith. Their knuckles were brushing against each other. It would’ve been so easy for Keith to link their fingers, to hold onto Lance’s hand, to gently caress Lance’s knuckles. “You know, I think I should steal your clothes more often. Red looks even better on me than I thought it would.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does,” Keith agreed. “It looks really good on you.”

“Is that an invitation to steal from your closet whenever I want?”

Keith glanced over to find Lance looking at him, one eyebrow raised. Keith shrugged. “Sure. Do what you gotta do.”

“Nice. I can _totally_ pull off the edgy jock look, too.”

Keith chuckled. “Except everyone knows it’s mine because my name’s on it. And besides, I’m not edgy.”

“So? That doesn’t take away from the fact that it looks good on me. And yes, you are. You’re the edgiest jock ever.”

“I’m not edgy!” Keith huffed. “Can’t argue with the rest, though. You look great in anything.”

There was a cough behind them. Keith and Lance both turned around to see that the other players were looking at them in amusement.

One of the guys said, “Look, we’re happy for you, but you two are giving us diabetes.”

“Yeah, not everyone here is into PDA. Get a room.”

“What? What’re you talking about?” Keith asked, furrowing his brows.

“We know you’re dating but you don’t have to be glued to each other all the time.”

“We aren’t dating!” Keith and Lance both said at the same time. The moment they realized they had done it, they looked at each other, only to hastily look off in different directions right after.

The guys just gave them unimpressed stares.

Keith huffed. “Come on, let’s go.”

Without waiting for a reply, Keith grabbed Lance’s hand and dragged him along. Behind them, the guys shouted things like, “That’s not very convincing, you know!” and “You aren’t helping your case!” but Keith ignored them.

He didn’t know why, but their words—the idea of him and Lance dating—did something to Keith. The feeling was light and fluttery in his chest. It was confusing. He pushed it to the far back of his mind. For now, he had to focus on doing homework with Lance.

 

2.

Keith was almost able to forget about the teasing. Sure, his teammates kept doing it ever since that afternoon, but that was it. They were the only ones; or so Keith had thought. That is, until he was hanging out with his friends a short while after the first incident.

They met up to grab drinks and desserts from the coffee shop but decided to sit in a lounge room of the dorms instead, since it was more comfortable and less crowded at the time. Lance had yet to join them, but everyone was ordering just for themselves. Keith found it odd that no one asked about what Lance would want, but he didn’t speak up. He ordered a large iced-coffee and two donuts—because he couldn’t decide on one type. So what if one of them happened to be Lance’s favorite? Same for the iced coffee, it was because he enjoyed the drink himself, not because he knew that Lance did, too.

Finally, they sat down in armchairs around a table, placing their drinks and desserts on the surface in the middle. Keith didn’t join the conversation right away, waiting for Lance to arrive. It was strange that Lance was late to join them like that, without a word.

With his back turned to the entrance, Keith didn’t notice when Lance finally showed up until he squeezed himself into the same armchair Keith was in, as every other seat was already occupied too. Keith rolled his eyes but instantly moved further toward the armrest so that Lance could have more space. Even though it was kind of nice with Lance sitting half on his lap like that. Not that he knew why.

“Oh, you’re here,” Pidge said by way of greeting.

“Hello to you too,” Lance said. Keith could just hear the roll of his eyes. “I got held up. Anyway, have anything for me?”

“Nope,” Allura replied. “You’re late, and we didn’t know what you wanted, so we didn’t get you anything.”

“What? That’s no fair!” Lance whined. “You know exactly the kind of stuff I like! It’s not that hard to figure out!”

“We actually thought you weren’t coming at all,” Hunk admitted.

“I can’t believe you’re so heartless. I thought we were friends.”

Keith let out a sigh. Before Lance could whine even more, he slid his still near-full iced coffee and one of the cream-filled donuts—the vanilla one, Lance’s favorite—in front of Lance.

He looked at Lance, taking in his raised eyebrow, and said, “Here, you can share mine.”

“Are you sure?” Lance asked.

“Would I offer otherwise?” Keith shot back. He went on to joke, “You already share my clothes, so why not share my food and coffee, too?”

“Well, if you put it that way…” Lance smiled and took a long sip from the iced coffee before taking a hearty bite from the donut.

Keith drank from the straw as if nothing had happened and it was totally normal to share drinks from the same straw.

“You know that’s like an indirect kiss, right?” Lance said nonchalantly.

“Is that so? Guess now we’re also sharing kisses.”

This made Lance giggle, and Keith had to smile. He was feeling warm all over knowing that _he_ had drawn that sound from Lance.

“Anyway,” Lance said after his giggles subsided, “friendship ended with all of you. Except Keith. Keith is now my best friend.”

It was only then that Keith remembered that the other three were there too, sitting around them. He had been so drawn in by Lance’s presence that he had completely blocked them out. This had been happening more and more often lately, but still.

“Don’t you mean _boyfriend_?” Pidge said in a deadpan voice. “Of course you wouldn’t end your friendship with him. He already had the _big upgrade_ before.”

“What? No. When I say _best friend_ , I _mean_ best friend.”

“Uh-huh,” Allura and Hunk said in unison.

Allura was the one to continue, “You share armchairs—which not even Hunk and I do, I might add. Lance keeps stealing Keith’s clothes, most of all his _team jacket_. Now you share food and talk about _indirect kisses_.”

Hunk concluded, “Those are all pretty clear signs of dating each other. Allura and I would know; we went through all of these. Well, the ones that apply for us. I’m not a jock like Keith, so I don’t have a team jacket for her to steal.”

“But we aren’t dating!” Keith and Lance exclaimed at the same time.

Like the last time, they met each other’s gaze, only to look anywhere but at each other a second later. Keith took another sip of iced coffee. He thought he had seen a faint blush on Lance’s face.

“Whatever you need to tell yourselves to sleep at night,” Pidge said with a shrug.

Keith didn’t know why, suddenly, everyone seemed to make such a big deal out of him and Lance supposedly dating. What he _did_ know, though, was that he felt warm and happy with Lance, and his heart started beating faster and a fluttery feeling spread through his chest and stomach when just _thinking_ about him. It was kind of like the rush of adrenaline during matches, except so much sweeter. And Keith had a feeling that Lance felt the same way.

But that was just a regular thing for close friends, right? It meant that they were close. That was all. Just because they were really close didn’t mean they were dating or wanted to be dating.

At least, that’s what Keith had to keep telling himself so he could sleep at night.

 

3.

One night with spring approaching, Keith was out late. It wasn’t that unusual that they had late practice in the evening, especially when the days started to get longer again, and the temperatures began to rise to perfect t-shirt weather during the day. It was especially common for Kolivan to schedule extra training sessions for them whenever there was a game approaching.

Kolivan had always been one to drill them to practice hard all the time. That was why, all things considered, Keith got along well with the man. After all, he had always been a guy who worked out every day, hitting the gym and lifting weights even when there was no practice, ever since his teens.

It was already dark when Keith stepped outside to make his way to his bike.

Usually, he would just walk back to the dorms, as he didn’t mind walking even this late. Even if something were to happen, Keith was sure as heck able to defend himself in any type of situation. Plus, he oozed an air of confidence that could ward off sketchy people.

But tonight, as with every Thursday this semester, there was a reason why he had his bike.

“Hey, Keith, wanna hang out for a round of gaming?” Rolo asked.

Usually, Keith wouldn’t mind hanging out with the guys even this late on a school night, but he shook his head. “Nah, I’m off to pick Lance up from his evening class.”

“Ah, of course. So that’s why you bring your bike on Thursdays nowadays.”

“Yeah. Just wanna make sure he gets home safe.”

Keith stowed his bag away and got out his helmet, putting it on.

“You really go out of your way even though our campus is pretty safe,” Rolo observed.

“Yeah, that’s a lot of effort for _supposedly_ just being friends,” another voice chimed in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith asked defensively, pausing as he was about to get on his bike.

“Oh, nothing. Say hi to your boyfriend for us!”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Keith yelled at the retreating forms of his teammates. He groaned when he could hear them laugh.

Even after many weeks and well into the next semester, the soccer team, as well as Keith and Lance's best friends, were still convinced that the two of them were dating. Keith wouldn’t be surprised if by now, the entire campus thought they were an item.

But they weren’t dating!

Sure, by now, Keith was well aware of the fact that he would like it if they _were_ , but the fact still stood that they _weren’t_. They were just close friends who happened to be very touchy-feely with each other, with Lance stealing Keith’s clothes and Keith—well, Keith doing things like offering him food, willingly providing his jacket to make sure Lance was warm, and picking him up from class at night.

Keith always argued that it just made sense because practice ended only a short time before Lance’s class did, and they lived in the same building. But the truth was that Keith enjoyed doing these extra things for Lance. He loved spending any bit of time with him that he could. Providing for Lance and keeping him safe and happy filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Finally, Keith revved up the engine and rode off to the location of Lance’s lecture. That was another reason why Keith took the bike—the building was on the other end of campus from their dorms. While Keith definitely enjoyed walking together, it was late, and thus, more comfortable to ride instead.

Keith stopped in front of the building and got off the bike, leaning against it as he waited for Lance. He was early, but he definitely preferred waiting rather than making Lance wait instead.

He got out his phone and shot a quick text to Lance to tell him he was there. Not that he had to; this had become a regular thing ever since the start of the semester. Still, Keith did it each time, just to let him know he was ready and waiting. Each time, Lance sent back nothing but a string of kissing cat-face emojis. It made Keith smile every time. Though he also hoped that Lance didn’t get in trouble for having his phone out in class.

He didn’t have to wait too long for the first string of students to walk out and finally, he spotted Lance with some classmates. Keith’s smile instinctively widened as Lance approached with a wave and a smile of his own once he spotted Keith.

Keith watched as the girl walking next to Lance hit his shoulder.

“Your boyfriend picking you up _again_? Damn, he’s a keeper.”

“For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend. And besides, he’s _center-forward_ , not _keeper_.”

“I’m not talking about soccer positions,” the girl said with a tone that hinted that her words were probably accompanied by an eye roll.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Lance picked up his pace and not a moment later, he was at Keith’s bike. To Keith’s surprise, Lance wrapped his arms around him in greeting.

“Hey,” Lance breathed against Keith’s ear. “Thanks for coming with the bike again. I’m tired today.”

Keith chuckled. “I figured. Let’s go home, then.”

“Yeah.” Lance stepped away so he could get the spare helmet and they could both get on the bike. It was then that Keith saw that Lance was only wearing a light shirt.

Keith frowned. “Why didn’t you bring a jacket?” he asked.

Lance shrugged. “It was still warm when I left earlier.”

“But it should’ve been obvious it’d be cold by the time you’d be done.”

“I didn’t think that far ahead. I never do when it’s warm and sunny out.”

Keith sighed. He wasted no time in unbuttoning his jacket and shrugging out of it so he could hand it to Lance. “Here.”

“Oh, no, I’ll be fine.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You steal it pretty much every day, and _now_ suddenly you don’t want it? I’ll remember that.”

“I didn’t say I don’t _want_ it!” Lance huffed. “Fine, I’ll take it. But don’t complain if _you_ end up sick and unable to play later.” He took the jacket and put it on, closing it and burying his chin in the collar. As always, it made Keith’s heart perform somersaults.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I have a turtleneck sweater. And you know I don’t get sick that easily.”

“Yeah, but one day you _will,_ and it’ll be me who’ll have to take care of you. I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

“We’ll see about that when we get there. And why would I complain about that? You already fuss over me all the time anyway.”

From the nearby parking spaces, there were loud giggles. Keith ignored them in favor of motioning for Lance to mount the bike with him. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” Lance replied, his arms wrapped tightly around Keith’s middle.

“Let’s go, then.” Keith revved the engine up once more and took off.

Another reason why he brought the bike: he loved being this close to Lance, with Lance’s arms around him holding on tight, leaning as close against Keith’s back as he could. Sometimes, Keith indulged himself in the thought that Lance would lean his cheek against Keith’s neck if he could. Maybe sometime, they could have a nice cuddle session like this while watching a movie.

When they arrived at the dorms and were about to part ways to get to their rooms, Lance started to unbutton the jacket, clearly intending to give it back.

Keith stopped him. “Keep it,” he said. “You can just wear it in the morning.”

Lance shrugged. “Okay then.” He smiled. “Good night, Keith. Sweet dreams.”

Keith returned the smile. “You too, Lance. Sweet dreams.”

And Keith did indeed have sweet dreams that night, as he did so often lately, of all the things he had already done with Lance, and all the things he still could if they were dating. Not that they were dating, or would be anytime soon.

 

4.

Finally, it was time for the final match of the season: against Galra, Voltron’s rival team. This game would decide who won the cup. The whole school was excited and full of anticipation. The pressure was on.

But that was just part of the game to Keith. He had always worked well under this kind of pressure. He would work his hardest to bring victory for their team. They were playing at home, which was always a sign of good fortune in spirit.

Keith was walking to the soccer field with the rest of the team when he heard a voice call, “Keith! Wait!”

He didn’t need to look to know that it was Lance. Still, Keith turned around to the sight of Lance jogging towards the team. Keith signaled for the others to wait while he listened to whatever it was that Lance wanted from him this shortly before the match.

Lance finally reached him and came to a halt right in front of him.

“What’s up?” Keith asked.

“Your ponytail is a mess,” Lance said in that typical air of a scold when it came to these things. “Turn around and let me fix it.”

Keith rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Was there anything else, or did you just run all the way here this early just so you could make a fuss over my hair like you always do?” he asked as Lance’s hands worked with his hair.

Something felt weird—it wasn’t the same feeling as with the type of hair tie Keith had been using since forever. When Lance was done, Keith carefully brought a hand up to his hair and sure enough—he could feel something smooth and vaguely star-shaped beneath his fingertips. He turned back to face Lance again, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

As if reading Keith’s unspoken question, Lance explained, “A hair tie with red and blue stars, because, you know. It’s, it’s for good luck.”

“Oh.” Keith blinked, then smiled softly. “Thank you, Lance. I’m sure it’ll help me win.”

Lance shuffled one foot, fidgeting with his sleeves. “There’s, there’s something else. Another good luck charm.”

“What is it?” Keith asked, tilting his head slightly.

But Lance didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned forward—to press his lips against Keith’s for a brief kiss. Just as Keith started to kiss back, Lance pulled away. His face looked flushed.

When he spoke again, his voice was squeaky. “So, uh, yeah. I’m gonna be right at the front to cheer you on. You better win this for me!”

And with that, he ran off to the entrance for viewers.

Keith couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. “Don’t worry. I _will_ ,” he said even though Lance was already out of earshot.

When he turned to join his teammates again, he saw that they weren’t too far from him—and everyone, players and coaches alike, was staring at him with amused, knowing grins.

“A good luck kiss from the boyfriend, huh?” Shiro was the first to speak what everyone must have been dying to say.

Keith made a sound that could only be described as half groan, half sigh. “For the last time, we aren’t dating.”

There was a chorus of “Suuuure,” and “Sounds fake, but okay.”

Keith picked up the pace to walk past everyone. “Come on, we have a game to win.”

“You sure are motivated, knowing that your boyfriend is watching.”

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend, but yeah. I want to win this, for him,” Keith said as they stepped inside.

“How romantic.”

Keith just rolled his eyes as they all went to their lockers to get changed.

When the two teams were warming up, Keith let his eyes wander to look for Lance. And sure enough, he was right in the front row near one of the goals, together with other friends and partners of the players, holding what looked like a hand-painted banner to cheer for Keith and the rest of the team.

Keith smiled even though he knew that Lance probably couldn’t see it from the distance. He hoped in his heart that they would get to play the second half facing that side. Scoring a goal of victory right in front of Lance? Talk about ideal scenario to impress the guy he liked.

It was a nice day, sunny and warm, but not too hot. Perfect conditions for the viewers as well. Keith was able to play in any weather, but he found there was something beautiful about the sun shining down when Lance—with his beautiful, bright smile—was there to watch him and cheer him on. Keith was pumped for this game, more than ever.

Finally, it was time for kick-off. Everyone shook hands. Lotor, the captain of Galra team, wore a smug smirk as he shook Keith’s hand. Keith gave him a nod, though his face remained neutral. While the rivalry wasn't hateful in nature, their grip was firm; neither wanted to back down from the challenge, both wanted victory for their team.

By a stroke of luck, Keith was the one to pick sides. And so, his wish came true—they would start out defending the goal where their friends were, then later play against it. Now, Keith just needed to score.

He knew that the Galra team, dressed in all-purple from head to toe, were a serious opponent. But there was a reason Voltron’s team had red jerseys: their players were passionate with a fire burning within. Keith, especially.

And today, he had a reason to win beyond just the competition and bringing the cup home.

As expected, the match was tough. Lotor was the first to score for Galra and had many close chances. Keith managed to equalize before the halftime whistle, but the tension was high during break time.

Before the second half was about to begin, Keith had to re-do his ponytail.

He held the red-and-blue star hair tie in his fingers, feeling the smooth material on his skin. He didn’t know if it was just a product for kids, or if it might’ve been handmade, but that was a minor detail. What mattered was that it was a gift from _Lance_.

Without thinking about what he was doing, Keith touched the tie to his lips for the briefest second before tying it into his hair again.

He looked to the bleachers, eyes searching for Lance, who was cheering for him with everyone else. Keith felt like he could hear his voice through the crowds, shouting his name over and over, that he could do it.

“That’s a lovely little accessory you have there,” Lotor called out to him from the other side of the halfway line. “Never thought you were the type to dress up all pretty.”

“I’m not,” Keith called back. “It’s a special gift.”

“Oh? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?” Lotor asked, eyebrow raised.

“He’s not my boyfriend. But he’s my special person, and his good luck charms will bring about your defeat.”

“We’ll see about that!” Lotor yelled over the sound of the whistle.

The second half continued much like the first.

Galra were as aggressive as ever, but Voltron played with newfound energy. Keith, especially, played with a fire, burning strong. Out of everyone on the field, he had the most chances now, even if the Galra’s defense managed to stop him each time. But he knew that he would make it, sooner or later.

He _had to_.

As time was starting to run low, the game got messier.

When Keith was running close to the goal with the ball, he was fouled. It wasn’t enough to injure him—not that Keith would have cared about a little pain—but they were given a penalty shot. Keith insisted on doing it himself.

He touched his hair tie. He sought out Lance’s face in the crowd. He took a breath—and made a perfect shot, the ball sailing right past the goalkeeper into the upper left corner.

The cheers were deafening. His teammates came to hug him and clap his shoulders and back. The remaining minutes passed like in a trance. Finally, the whistle sounded to signal the end of the game. The opposing players shook hands over a good game.

But most of all, Team Voltron celebrated their victory.

They walked along the bleachers, where their supporters were cheering and clapping, shaking hands with those right at the front. When they reached the side where their friends and partners were, Lance was right there, leaning over the railing. Keith didn’t think when he did what he did next. He reached out, but not to take Lance’s hand. Instead, he grabbed Lance’s face—and kissed him hard on the lips, right there, where the entire world could see them.

The moment felt infinite to Keith. When they parted again, Lance seemed a little dazed, but his smile stretched from ear to ear. Keith’s own grin felt like it was permanently stuck on his face. He was high both from the victory and the kiss.

Keith could have gazed at Lance forever, but a shout brought him back to reality.

“You can kiss your boyfriend all you want later, Keith!” Kolivan reprimanded. “We still have stuff to do!”

“We aren’t dating!” Keith and Lance both yelled as Keith had to jog back to join his team.

It hadn’t escaped Keith’s notice that Lance didn’t join in until the middle of the sentence, though he couldn’t tell if he just imagined that his voice had seemed to hold an edge of… was it frustration? Disappointment?

When he turned to glance back at Lance, Keith thought that Lance’s expression looked crestfallen as well. But he couldn’t tell why. He hoped to himself that it was just the distance, that his observation about Lance’s voice was just in his imagination. He hated seeing Lance sad on any day, but especially on such a happy occasion. He wondered if it might be because of him, and his heart fell.

The thought slipped into the back of his mind as the celebrations continued and the team had to go shower and change.

By the end of it all, Keith was wearing the red and blue star hair tie around his wrist along with his fingerless gloves, for everyone to see.

 

5.

The night of their victory, some students had organized a spontaneous party. Naturally, people were excited. Keith usually didn’t like parties that much, at least not the ones with crowds and alcohol—and other things—everywhere, but as the captain, and still in a mood for celebration, well, he couldn’t just say no.

And so, Keith found himself leaning against the wall nursing a bottle of beer through the night, chatting with some of his teammates as well as a couple of other fellow introverted jocks from other sports. Shiro was there, despite being long-since out of uni, but neither of them seemed to mind. After all, Shiro was highly admired by everyone and something of a brother-figure to Keith. Shiro’s presence might have been another reason why  Keith stayed to the side rather than actively taking part.

Keith was wearing just a black t-shirt and sweatpants, not having bothered to get changed when he heard about the party. He would be wearing his team jacket but, as it had become customary, Lance had snatched it for himself soon after the game.

Keith was a bit sad that he wasn’t with Lance right now. Then again, Lance had always been someone who did well with crowds and enjoyed parties, even if he wasn’t a full-out ‘party animal’ as the saying went. Still, Keith hadn’t spotted him in a while, and he was only barely able to hold back a frown.

When he went to dispose of his empty beer bottle, Keith overheard two guys talking nearby.

“That guy there in the red jacket is a real cutie. Think I should go invite him for a drink?” the first guy said.

“Dude, no, do you have a death wish?” the other said. “That’s the soccer captain’s boyfriend.”

Keith looked out to where the two must be looking, and sure enough, he finally spotted Lance—dancing in the middle of the room, proudly wearing Keith’s jacket like it was his own. As always, the sight made his heart beat wildly.

The first guy spoke again. “So what? Doesn’t mean I can’t try to tap that.”

“No, trust me, you really don’t want to mess with the soccer captain,” the other guy argued. “If he finds out that you’re hitting on his boyfriend…”

Keith would have liked to keep watching Lance, but he also didn’t want to stick around, and the others were waiting for him.

As he passed the two guys, he made sure to wear his most potent death glare as he said, “Yeah, you _really_ don’t wanna mess with me.”

That seemed to do the trick, as the first guy held his hands up in surrender while the other’s face all but spelled “Told you so.”

Usually, Keith would have made the correction—after all, he and Lance _weren’t_ dating—but if it would keep creeps like that away from Lance? Well, he could tell a lie for once.

As he stood by the wall again at the back of the room, Keith fiddled idly with the red and blue stars of the hair tie around his wrist, listening to the others chatter rather than joining in.

After a while, Rolo, who liked jumping around between the crowds, came up to them. He looked right at Keith, with an expression that was partly amused but also held a hint of worry.

“Yo, Keith, you should go check on your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my—oh, whatever.” Keith sighed. “What’s wrong? Where’s he?”

“He’s sitting on the sofa over there,” Rolo replied and pointed. “Nothing’s _wrong_ , exactly, but I think he might’ve had a beer too many. He’s really giggly. He also keeps asking for you. I left Nyma with him before I went to get you. Maybe you should take him home.”

“Oh.” Keith moved away from the wall. “Maybe I should.” He turned to the others. “Sorry, guys. Guess it’s time for me to go.”

“No problem,” replied his friends’ overlapping voices. “Make sure your boyfriend’s doing fine.”

How they had all collectively decided to say the same thing like a hivemind, Keith had no idea. Either way, he just sighed and waved as he set off in the direction his friend had pointed.

When he reached the sofa, he found Lance sitting on one end of it, staring into space; Nyma was sitting next to him and patting his back. When she saw him approach, Keith nodded at her, and she smiled, then got up and left, likely to find Rolo again.

Keith stopped right in front of Lance and gently tapped his shoulder. “Hey.”

Lance’s head snapped up to look at Keith, and his face broke into a huge smile. “Keith!” He wrapped his arms around Keith, nestling his face against Keith’s stomach. “Keith! I love you, Keith!”

Keith froze. He was aware of the many pairs of eyes directed at them. Unsure what to do, he chuckled. He hoped he didn’t sound too nervous. “I know. Let’s go home, okay?”

“Only if you carry me.”

Keith blinked in surprise. The request was unexpected, but the thought of carrying Lance was not unwelcome at all. He said, “Okay. I can do that.” Carefully, he pried Lance’s arms away and picked him up, bridal style. “Like this?”

“Mmmm… my hero.” Lance smiled at him. But soon after, his head fell down, and he nuzzled his face against the crook of Keith’s neck, where his hair curled wildly. “Is this like the bonding moment you were so upset about me forgetting?”

Keith tried not to shiver, both because of Lance bringing up their very first bonding moment from so long ago, and because Lance was basically kissing his neck.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was exactly like that. I cradled you in my arms just like this.”

Lance giggled. “I’m sorry I forgot about it. I might forget about this one, too. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I’m not mad. Not anymore,” Keith said, voice soft. He made sure that he had a secure hold on Lance before he started to walk. “Let’s go home.”

He navigated his way through the crowds, all too aware of Lance’s even breathing hot on his skin. He carried Lance all the way to their dorms. But once inside, he hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Lance alone, nor did he want to fumble for Lance’s keys when Lance might be asleep.

With that in mind, Keith walked to his own room, somehow managing to unlock it with Lance still in his arms. Once inside, he gently set Lance down on the bed.

That’s when he noticed that Lance was still awake.

“This isn’t my room,” Lance stated.

“No. It’s mine.”

A drawn out “Oh” was all Lance replied to that. Then, he looked at Keith’s wrist. His face broke into a smile, and he said, “You kept the hair tie! It looks weird with your gloves. But I like it.”

“Of course I kept it! It’s the special good luck charm you gave me to win the match, after all.” Keith smiled despite the slight awkwardness of the entire situation. He couldn’t help it, Lance was just—well, he was as cute as always. “Come on, let’s take off that jacket so you can sleep.”

“Can’t I keep it on?” Lance asked. “I love your jacket.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Keith said, amusement seeping into his voice. “But that’s bound to be uncomfortable. You can have it back tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Lance didn’t protest anymore when Keith helped him out of the jacket. “But if I’m sleeping on the bed, then where are _you_ sleeping?”

“Uh…” Keith hesitated. He admitted, “I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“You should sleep with me,” Lance offered. “Share the bed, I mean. Cuddle me. That would be nice.”

The request made Keith's heart skip a beat. This was everything he dreamed about the past months. Part of him wondered if he should deny the request, but in the end, he couldn’t find the resolve. “Okay. I guess we can do that.” Even as he spoke, his mind was racing because Lance saying all these things out loud was, well, confusing. Was it just the alcohol, or could it mean that Lance wanted to go further than they currently were?

He took off Lance’s shoes and tossed them aside. But after that, he hesitated. He looked at Lance and cleared his throat. “You, uh, you should do the rest yourself.”

“That’s too bad,” Lance said with a sigh. “I’ve always dreamed of you taking my clothes off.”

Keith took a sharp breath. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. He turned away when Lance started to unzip his jeans. Keith took off his own shoes and pants, not bothering to put them away properly right now. He left his t-shirt on, as he often slept in just a t-shirt and his boxer briefs. When he turned back around so he could place his gloves and the hair tie on the nightstand, he saw that Lance had already slipped under the covers, still wearing his own t-shirt.

When Keith joined him, he tentatively wrapped his arms around Lance. Lance snuggled closer, and Keith held back a sigh. “This kinda makes it harder to keep saying we’re not dating,” he mumbled.

“We should stop then,” Lance slurred.

“Huh?”

“We should stop saying that. We should start dating.” Lance sighed. “We practically have been the whole time.”

“Yeah, but…” Keith trailed off. He realized that Lance’s breathing was even, signaling that he had fallen asleep. Keith sighed. “Guess we’ll figure that out tomorrow,” he whispered.

Finally, he fell asleep as well, his thoughts racing around the events of the day.

 

+1

Keith felt warm when he woke up the next morning. Of course— _Lance was in his arms_. Very closely so, in fact. Keith thought it was a miracle that he didn’t wake up in a certain state, with Lance flush against him like that.

He was unsure of what to do, so he just stayed like that, listening to Lance’s soft, even breathing, taking in the way he held onto Keith’s t-shirt on his chest. Taking in the way their legs were tangled under the blanket.

Lance had his face tucked into the crook of Keith’s neck, and before he could stop himself, Keith leaned in to nuzzle his nose into Lance’s hair, breathing in his scent. His hair was so soft, and he always smelled so _nice_. Keith could get used to it—all of this. He wanted _everything_ , wanted Lance in every way. He wanted it so much, it ached deep in his chest and spread through his entire body.

Eventually, Lance began to stir, and Keith reluctantly leaned away. Lance let out a soft sound as he raised his head, blinking at Keith.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Keith said with a smirk. He couldn’t help it, with Lance looking that cute waking up in the morning with a case of bedhead and a scrunched up nose.

“Good morning,” Lance mumbled, detaching one hand from Keith’s chest to rub the sleep from his eyes. His voice sounded a little scratchy. “How did I get here? We didn’t, uh—”

“You wanted me to carry you home. I didn’t want to leave you on your own, so I brought you to my room. You insisted on cuddling,” Keith summarized. “And that’s all that happened. No getting naked, even though you commented that you wanted me to take your clothes off.”

“O-oh.” Lance hesitated. “Did I, uh, say anything else?”

“You said a lot of things.”

“Anything weird, I mean.”

“Uh, well…” Keith paused. “When I came to get you at the party, you hugged me and said you loved me,” he admitted. “You apologized for forgetting about the bonding moment. And also that we should stop saying we’re not dating because we basically have been the whole time. That was right before you fell asleep in my arms.”

“I said all of that? Shit.” Lance let go of Keith’s shirt with his other hand too so he could bury his face in his hands. Keith watched him, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I didn’t mean to confess while drunk, of all things.”

“So you, you meant everything?” Keith probed, feeling the hope rise inside himself.

“Yes! Oh god, this is terrible.”

“Would it still be terrible if I said I wouldn’t mind if we started dating?” Keith asked in a murmur.

“Wait—really?” Lance put his hands down, staring at Keith with wide eyes. “All this time, I thought you didn’t want to date, because you were so adamant about correcting people.”

“Well, so did you,” Keith pointed out in his defense.

“Only because I thought you didn’t feel the same, and I didn’t want to make things awkward by bringing my feelings into the mix!”

“So—all this time, we could have been dating, but we denied it to everyone, including ourselves?”

“Oh my god. We’re idiots. We’re goddamn _idiots_. How are we this ridiculous?” Lance broke into soft laughter.

Keith couldn’t help but join in. They really had been ridiculous for so long, while everyone else had seen it from the start. How had they not gotten their shit together sooner?

When they quieted down, Keith said, “We should get up. You need a good breakfast after last night.”

Keith needed a good breakfast himself before practice, but he didn’t say that. Lance was always his priority.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m hungry. And a breakfast date sounds really nice. I’ve always wanted to have one of those with you.”

Keith let go of Lance so they could both get out of bed. Keith went to grab some sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt, as he didn’t feel like dressing properly. He put them on, then turned back around to get his gloves and hair tie from the nightstand. He wanted to have the tie with the red and blue stars on him all the time now.

When he saw that Lance was still in his underwear and the t-shirt he had slept in, Keith raised a quizzical eyebrow. “You wanna have breakfast in your underwear? As sexy as that is, a public space probably isn’t the right place for this.”

“What? No!” Lance sputtered. “I just—I, uh, I feel like wearing something more comfy today. Can I borrow some sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Lance, you’ve been stealing my clothes for ages, and we’re boyfriends now. _Of course_ you can.”

“Well _excuse_ me for wanting to make sure it’s okay!” Lance huffed. He went to grab some random sweatpants as well as a t-shirt, putting them on. After a moment, he said, “I _really_ like the sound of that, though. Stealing my boyfriend’s clothes.”

Keith grinned. “Well, I like the sight of my boyfriend _wearing_ _my_ clothes, so I guess it’s a perfect match.”

“I’m taking your jacket too,” Lance said, not even waiting for a reply as he picked it up.

“Of course. It’s basically a permanent part of you now.” Keith laughed. “Ready to go?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

They held hands the whole way to the dining hall, only letting go to load food onto their trays and walk to a table. They sat next to each other, knees bumping under the tabletop.

A moment after they started eating, Keith asked, “Wanna come watch us train today?”

“You still have practice even after winning yesterday?”

“Yeah. Kolivan never gives us breaks. He especially won’t when he finds out there was a party last night. Even if Shiro was there too and most of us take it slow.”

“I guess it makes sense, since you never take a break on your own either.”

“So will you come?”

“You sure it’s okay if I watch?”

“You’ve been to practice before. And I’d be happy knowing my boyfriend is there to watch me.” Keith was looking at Lance as he said the last part.

Lance smiled. “Alright. In that case, I guess I’ll be there.”

“Nice.” Keith smiled back.

They finished eating in comfortable silence.

When they were done, they both left for their own rooms, Lance to take care of his skincare routine and Keith to brush his teeth and get his stuff for training. Keith didn’t take long to get ready and walked over to Lance’s room to wait for him by the door. When Lance came out, Keith took his hand—and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Lance smiled brightly.

Once they reached the soccer field, they kissed as Keith had to enter the locker room. Keith was in high spirits as he changed into training gear, ignoring his teammates’ questioning stares.

As always, everyone had to jog laps to warm up. When he reached where Lance was standing, Keith went off track to give a hearty kiss to his boyfriend. He only stopped when a whistle sounded.

“No kissing your boyfriend during training!” Kolivan yelled. “That’s one extra lap for you, Keith!”

“Sorry, Kolivan! I’ll be right back!” Keith yelled back.

But instead of jogging off, he pressed another kiss against Lance’s lips.

“Don’t get yourself into trouble because of me, you’re the captain,” Lance scolded. He was trying to sound strict, but his smile betrayed him.

Keith grinned. “You’re worth it.”

To prove his point, he leaned right in for another peck. Finally, he jogged back off, still grinning, even as Kolivan announced that he had to run _three_ extra laps now.

“What did we tell you about PDA?” one of the guys mock-scolded as Keith jogged past him.

“Sorry, guys, my boyfriend is just too irresistible.”

“Oh? No more denying?”

“Nope, we stopped being idiots.”

“It was about time,” came the chorus.

Practice continued as it always did, except for Keith being more motivated than usual, with Lance watching, and wearing Lance’s special hair tie. And if anyone made a comment in jest that Keith better not get distracted by his boyfriend, well—Keith replied that Lance was his number one motivation and good luck charm.

Which he always had been—the special person in Keith’s heart. Except that now, there was a title to it, an official announcement to the whole world.

No more denying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this big excuse for me to be nothing but pure selfindulgence! ~~I mean, if you've read some of my previous or following fics, I'm always selfindulgent but this is a whole nother layer~~ This entire fic is just one big excuse to write Lance in Keith's jacket


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's journey of pining as Keith and he keep denying they're dating. Complete with plenty of Lance in Keith's varsity jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... for the past half a year, I have always been thinking about Lance in Keith's jacket, and just on thursday, I suddenly had the thought, what if I write this story from Lance's POV? Considering how much this fic still means to me, I couldn't say no to that idea and started right the next day. I know this is probably _the_ most selfindulgent thing I have ever done (which says a lot coming from me :"D) but hey, maybe someone else will find entertainment in this, too! If you do, I'd love to hear it :)
> 
> Not properly beta'd as of now because I was too excited to post the same day I finished and I am supposed to sleep even right now as I'm typing this

1.

It was just a regular afternoon. Lance was sitting on his bed, a book propped up against his knees. The autumn breeze was starting to cause goose-bumps to rise all over his skin, but he was too lazy to get up and close the window. Well, and he didn’t want to move away from the comforting, steady warmth of Keith’s back against his own.

He wished he could stay like this forever, but a glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table revealed that time was up for now. He was torn between holding back a sigh and holding back an amused laugh. A sigh, because he didn’t want to part. A laugh, because Keith must’ve been so focused on his own readings that he didn’t look at the time.

Even though he didn’t want their time together to be interrupted, Lance knew that he had to point it out. He nudged Keith with his elbow before he leaned away and said, “Don’t you have training? You’re the captain, you can’t skip.”

There was the sound of Keith shuffling for his phone and letting out a sigh. “You’re right,” Keith said. “I gotta hurry if I don’t wanna run extra laps.”

“Well, go on, then,” Lance said. He reached for the bookmark next to his feet to mark his position before closing his book. “While you’re out there sweating, I’m gonna take a break and chill, since we’re gonna continue homework later.”

There was a low chuckle. Lance had always loved that sound, and he wished that he was still up against Keith’s back so he could feel the rumble go through him. Keith said, “Sure, you go do that. Are you still gonna come pick me up when we’re done?”

Lance pretended to think for a moment. “If you take a shower, I might consider it.”

“Hey, that was _one_ time.” Keith huffed. There was the soft squeaking of the mattress as Keith moved away. “Alright, I better run off. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later.” Lance turned to watch as Keith grabbed his gym bag and walked to the door. He smiled when Keith turned his head to look at him once more, lips quirking up, right before he left.

Once the door was shut again, Lance finally stood to close the window. Then, just as he wanted to flop down with a sigh, something red against the light blue sheets caught his eyes.

In fact, it was Keith’s varsity jacket. His varsity jacket that he never, ever parted with, like a stereotypical jock. But now he had left it here, _right here_ , in Lance’s room, _on Lance’s bed_.

Lance’s heart started beating faster. On his knees, he edged over to the foot-end. His fingers hovered over the jacket as he hesitated. He took a deep breath, picked up the jacket, and hugged it to his chest. He closed his eyes as he inhaled Keith’s scent—a perfect mix of his lemon-fresh 2-in-1 body and hair wash, the cheap detergent he used, and something tangy that was so _Keith_. Lance always scolded him for using a combined product (“It’s bad for your hair!”) but that was just a cover up. The truth was, he _loved_ Keith’s smell. He craved for it, trying to chase it whenever he could by leaning into Keith, sneakily nuzzling his nose into Keith’s hair.

And now, he had a special brand of it, right here in his arms.

The rational part of him knew that he should run after Keith to give his jacket back, or at least put it back down or hang it over his desk chair. However, his rational thinking was currently off taking a vacation all the way up on cloud nine along with the rest of his brain.

His heart continued beating fast as he made his next move: letting go of the jacket only to slowly slip his arms into the sleeves. It was only then that he fell backwards, back of his head hitting the pillow. He grabbed his blue plush lioness and hugged it tightly. He was so glad that no one was there to witness him as he let out what could only be described as a high-pitched squeak, muffled by the plushie. His friends certainly would never let him live this down.

It had taken him a while to admit to himself that all his thoughts—all his _fantasies_ —involving Keith meant that he had a crush on the soccer captain. A crush that had started to blossom into something more as they got closer and spent more and more time together. And now that he had started to embrace his feelings, apparently, he had turned into a middleschool girl with her first crush. All because Keith had to forget his stupid varsity jacket when he was late for training.

He finally let out a sigh and put on some music to have in the background as he stared up at the ceiling, just letting his mind wander as he did nothing else while he waited for time to pass.

Lance knew exactly how long soccer practice went. In recent times, it had started to become a habit that Lance either went along to watch (totally not because he loved watching Keith work out). Other times, he came to pick Keith up for no reason other than to spend more time together even when they were gonna sit together for homework or studying in company, like it was the case that day. And yet, that afternoon it felt like time was passing torturously slow but at the same time, when Lance jumped up to make his way to the soccer field, it felt like it was too soon.

At first, he had meant to take the jacket off, keep it his little secret that he had worn it and tried to take in as much of Keith’s scent as he could. But he found he really didn’t want to take it off. Aside from that, he couldn’t help but wonder how Keith would react. Would he get angry? Confused? Would he—could there be a chance that he’d react positively?

They had grown so close lately, Lance had reason to hope that something could come from it. And this—this could very well be his chance to test the waters, see if Keith really was attracted to him too, or if it was all just in his imagination.

He pocketed his phone, grabbed his keys, and left the room. The whole way, whenever he passed by fellow students, he was met with doubletakes and stares. Lance didn’t care, smiling to himself as he walked with a spring in his step. He was totally nervous, sure, but also really giddy. Walking around in Keith’s varsity jacket, wearing Keith’s name on his back, it was exciting. If it felt like this _now_ , just how exhilarating would it feel if they were dating? Lance hoped he would be able to find out.

Because he reached the soccer field early, he leaned against the wall as he waited for the players to walk out of the locker room. When the door finally opened, he smiled, eyes immediately searching for Keith. Keith smiled back at him and it made his heart do a happy dance. He loved all of Keith’s smiles, be it a lopsided quirk of the lips, a confident smirk, or wide smile full of warmth. Right now, it was more of a case of the latter. Whenever Lance caught one of those smiles directed at _him_ , he felt like melting, especially because he had noticed that Keith didn’t seem to give them to anyone else. Being the cause of any of Keith’s smiles was an amazing feeling, especially because when they had first met, it had been a rare sight. Maybe that was what made them so beautiful to Lance.

Lance stepped away from the wall to meet Keith in the middle. His gaze was focused on Keith, but behind him, Lance could see his team mates nudging each other. On Keith’s face, it was like he could see the gears turning inside his brain, as his mouth fell open and he said, “Oh. _That’s_ where my jacket went.”

“Yeah. You left it in my room earlier, so I thought it was only fair I got to steal it.” Lance grinned, aiming for playful innocence. “Why? Want it back?”

Keith gave Lance a once-over, quick but intense like his eyes were a camera trying to commit Lance’s image to perfect memory. “Nah. Keep it.”

“Awesome.” The grin stayed on Lance’s face as he fell into step next to Keith. Their knuckles were brushing, and he wished Keith would reach out to take his hand, because Lance would never have the guts to do it himself. To test the waters of Keith’s reactions more, he casually remarked, “You know, I think I should steal your clothes more often. Red looks even better on me than I thought it would.”

Even though he had _hoped_ for it, Lance was still taken by surprise when Keith agreed. “Yeah. Yeah, it does. It looks really good on you.”

To keep up the game, Lance asked, “Is that an invitation to steal from your closet whenever I want?” He looked at Keith, raising an eyebrow.

Keith glanced over at him and shrugged when he caught Lance’s expression. “Sure. Do what you gotta do.”

Lance’s grin was back in full force. “Nice. I can totally pull off the edgy jock look, too.”

Keith chuckled before he pointed out, “Except everyone knows it’s mine because my name’s on it. And besides, I’m not edgy.”

“So? That doesn’t take away from the fact that it looks good on me. And yes, you are. You’re the edgiest jock ever.”

“I’m not edgy!” Keith huffed. “Can’t argue with the rest, though. You look great in anything.”

Lance was lost for a clever reply at Keith ging him another compliment. He didn’t have to, though, as there was a cough coming from behind. When he and Keith both turned around, Keith’s teammates were looking at them in amusement.

One of the guys said, “Look, we’re happy for you, but you two are giving us diabetes.”

“Yeah, not everyone here is into PDA. Get a room,” another added.

“What? What’re you talking about?” Keith asked. When Lance glanced at him, he saw that Keith was furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t make any sense of what they were talking about.

Lance, however, was putting the pieces together from how the soccer players had reacted before. Not a moment later, another voice chimed in, “We know you’re dating but you don’t have to be glued to each other all the time.”

While he wished they were, Lance knew that they _weren’t_. It was for that reason that he said, “We aren’t dating!”—at the same time as Keith did. Lance glanced at Keith, and Keith glanced at him. When they caught each other’s gazes, they both hastily looked into the other direction. The guys just gave them unimpressed stares.

Keith huffed, said, “Come on, let’s go,” and grabbed Lance’s hand to drag him along without even waiting for a reply. Lance’s heart rate increased at his wish for Keith to take his hand fulfilling so suddenly. Who knew that all it would take was for a bunch of jocks to imply they were a couple?

Behind them, the guys shouted things like, “That’s not very convincing, you know!” and “You aren’t helping your case!” but neither he or Keith said anything; they continued to walk in silence, Keith barely slowing down until they reached their dorm building.

Lance was dying to know what Keith was thinking right now. He couldn’t help the little stab of disappointment in his chest at Keith’s denial. At the same time, hope continued to simmer inside his heart at Keith’s unreadable reaction.

 

2.

Following their conversation that afternoon, Lance started to snatch clothes from Keith’s closet: sweatpants, t-shirts, hoodies; wearing them until they stopped smelling like Keith and appreciating the comfort. But most of all, he stole Keith’s varsity jacket whenever he caught Keith take it off. He reveled in the stares and whispers, in the way Keith looked at him whenever he wore it—an intense spark in his eyes, like he was admiring a masterpiece in an art gallery instead of looking at Lance telling a dumb joke.

They had never talked about the soccer team believing they were dating. It was like Keith was pointedly ignoring the possibility, and Lance didn’t dare bring it up. And yet, Keith continued to give him all these gazes, the warm smiles, playing along to Lance’s attempts at flirting, giving more small compliments here and there whenever Lance struck a pose in Keith’s jacket.

But even with all the stares he attracted, so far, no one made the assumption in Lance’s presence alone. He was glad about it; after all, he would have to deny it, like they both had in front of the soccer team. The way it was now, he could indulge himself in imagining what it would be like if they _were_ dating, and that by wearing Keith’s varsity jacket, wearing Keith’s name on his back, he was shouting it to the whole world.

Just a short while after the first incident, Lance was running late to hanging out with his friends. After class, a professor had wanted to speak with him and Lance couldn’t just walk away. At least it wasn’t anything bad, though Lance tried to keep the conversation as short as possible. When he was finally able to leave, he went straight to one of the lounge rooms because he had a feeling that was where his friends would go with their drinks instead of sitting down in the coffee shop. After all, they had done it often before.

Whenever Lance caught his own reflection in the windows along the way, he had to grin. He _really_ looked good in Keith’s jacket.

Once he arrived at the lounge, it didn’t take long to spot his friends. Keith was sitting with his back to the door and Lance didn’t announce his arrival; instead, he squeezed himself next to Keith, ending up half on top of his lap. He could get away with it perfectly, too: after all, there was no free armchair left around the table, and he and Keith often sat next to each other. Lance glanced at Keith’s face and thought he could see him roll his eyes, but Keith instantly inched closer to the armrest to make more space for both of them to sit comfortably, without a word of complaint.

The first to speak with everyone aware of Lance’s presence was Pidge. “Oh, you’re here.”

Jeez, what kind of greeting was that? Lance rolled his eyes. “Hello to you, too,” he said. “I got held up. Anyway, have anything for me?”

“Nope,” Allura replied. “You’re late, and we didn’t know what you wanted, so we didn’t get you anything.”

“What? That’s no fair!” Lance whined. “You know exactly the kind of stuff I like! It’s not that hard to figure out!”

“We actually thought you weren’t coming at all,” Hunk admitted.

“I can’t believe you’re so heartless. I thought we were friends.” Lance was just playing dramatic, of course, but he was still just a tiny bit hurt. Did they really think he didn’t plan to hang out and not even tell them about his change of mind? Did they just assume that he wouldn’t want to have anything from the coffee shop? It’s not like Lance expected them to give him free food—he would’ve paid them back!

Even with his dramatic antics, he was caught by surprise when Keith shoved his large iced coffee and a donut in front of him. He looked at Keith, raising an eyebrow.

Keith merely said, “Here, you can share mine.”

“Are you sure?” Lance asked. He didn’t want to seem like he was begging.

“Would I offer otherwise?” Keith shot back. Then, he continued with a half-smirk, “You already share my clothes, so why not share my food and coffee, too?”

“Well, if you put it that way…” Lance smiled and took a long sip from the iced coffee before taking a hearty bite from the donut. His heart made a jump when he realized that it was a vanilla cream donut— _his favorite_. Was it just coincidence that Keith had bought two donuts, his own favorite—chocolate—as well as Lance’s, or had he thought of Lance when he had done it? With the iced coffee, as well; it was a drink they _both_ enjoyed, and picking a large size just for himself when he bought _two_ desserts seemed a little over the top. He watched as Keith took a sip from the drink like it was the most normal thing for friends to share a straw. As nonchalantly as he could, Lance said, “You know that’s like an indirect kiss, right?”

Keith returned his look with an eyebrow raised. “Is that so? Guess now we’re also sharing kisses.”

Lance couldn’t keep himself from giggling at Keith’s immediately playing along. When Keith smiled at him in a pleased way, butterflies fluttered all over his chest and stomach. It took him a moment longer than usual for the giggles to subside because he felt so giddy. When they finally did, he looked at his other friends and said, “Anyway, friendship ended with all of you. Except Keith. Keith is now my best friend.”

“Don’t you mean _boyfriend_?” Pidge said in a deadpan voice. “Of course you wouldn’t end your friendship with him. He already had the _big upgrade_ before.”

Lance felt like screaming internally and his cheeks felt warm. Now his own best friends, too, thought he and Keith were dating? Despite wanting to play along so badly, he replied, “What? No. When I say best friend, I mean best friend.”

“Uh-huh,” Allura and Hunk said in unison.

Allura was the one to continue, “You share armchairs—which not even Hunk and I do, I might add. Lance keeps stealing Keith’s clothes, most of all his team jacket. Now you share food and talk about indirect kisses.”

Hunk concluded, “Those are all pretty clear signs of dating each other. Allura and I would know; we went through all of these. Well, the ones that apply for us. I’m not a jock like Keith, so I don’t have a team jacket for her to steal.”

“But we aren’t dating!” Keith and Lance exclaimed at the same time, just like the last time. Again, they exchanged a glance, only to look anywhere but each other a mere second later.

With a shrug, Pidge said, “Whatever you need to tell yourselves to sleep at night.”

Lance realized that he would have to be prepared to keep denying it, even if in his head, he indulged himself in the thought of dating Keith. He would have to keep ignoring the stab he felt whenever they both denied a relationship.

And yet, even as he told himself this, he kept clinging to the glimmer of hope that maybe Keith liked him back and they could start dating.

 

3.

By the time spring approached, Lance found it harder and harder to live with his inner fantasies while having to deny it all on the outside.

Sure, they had been touchy-feely for a long while already. Lance continued to steal Keith’s clothes, to the point where it seemed like Lance was wearing Keith’s varsity jacket more often than Keith did (though Lance always made sure there was enough time in between to make sure it would smell like Keith again). But aside from that, more and more often, Keith provided food for Lance without any prompt to do it, as if he had a sense telling him when Lance was hungry. Even if Keith presented the snacks without a word or with a gruff air, it left Lance flustered.

However, what took the cake was a routine that had started the first Thursday of the new semester.

When Lance had found out that he had a class that went into the night and was located at the other end of campus, he had been just a little annoyed, but he would have managed somehow. Keith had been with him when they had looked at their new schedules, had picked up on the slight frown on Lance’s face then leaned over to see what was wrong. To Lance’s surprise, Keith had immediately announced, “I’m gonna pick you up from that evening class.”

Lance had tried to argue at first, but Keith had insisted _just to make sure_ and _because he was out that late for practice, anyway_ , so Lance had to give in. The arguing had just been a front, anyway; just alone knowing that Keith wanted to go the extra mile _for him_ filled Lance with such incredible warmth he thought he was gonna catch a fever.

Keith acted like _such an attentive boyfriend_ , and yet, he denied it whenever their best friends or the soccer team teased them about it, and Lance had to go along.

One Thursday, Lance had trouble staying focused on his evening class. He was tired because the previous night, thoughts about Keith had kept him awake for a while. Even aside from the butterflies in his stomach, Lance was really glad that Keith was coming to pick him up again, because walking home all alone wouldn’t be so fun when he was this tired.

About five minutes before class ended, the light on Lance’s phone signaled an incoming message. As was customary, Keith had sent him a text to tell him he was waiting outside. Lance smiled and, as was customary, sent back a string of kissing cat-face emojis. From the corner of his eyes, he could see that the girl next to him was stealing a glance at his phone, most likely managing to see the emojis even though Lance tried to shield the screen from view. Jeez, did she never hear about privacy?

Finally, it was time to go home. Lance packed his bag and left along with his classmates. The late-night spring breeze made him shiver in just his light shirt, but he felt warm the moment he spotted Keith leaning against his red bike, smiling in Lance’s direction. Lance smiled back and waved, and when Keith’s smile widened in response, the warm feeling only grew stronger.

He held back a flinch when someone hit him lightly on the shoulder. It was the girl sitting next to him. “Your boyfriend picking you up again? Damn, he’s a keeper,” she said.

Lance wanted to groan. Remarks like this had happened before, and each time, he had to tell her the facts. And so, he said, “For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend. And besides, he’s _center-forward_ , not _keeper_.” The last part was added purely to keep up a clueless act. He didn’t want people to know how badly he was pining; it was bad enough that _he_ knew how badly he was pining.

“I’m not talking about soccer positions,” the girl said in that typical I’m-rolling-my-eyes-at-you tone.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Lance waved her off and picked up his pace. He didn’t want to deal with this now, he just wanted to enjoy his brief moment with Keith now and get home to his dorm room so he could sleep soon. The moment he stood in front of Keith’s bike, he threw his arms around Keith in greeting. “Hey,” he breathed against Keith’s ear. “Thanks for coming with the bike again. I’m tired today.”

Keith chuckled, hot breath ghosting on Lance’s skin. “I figured. Let’s go home, then.”

“Yeah.” Lance stepped away so he could get the spare helmet and they could both get on the bike.

Keith suddenly frowned and asked, “Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

Lance merely shrugged and replied, “It was still warm when I left earlier.”

“But it should’ve been obvious it’d be cold by the time you’d be done.”

“I didn’t think that far ahead. I never do when it’s warm and sunny out.”

Keith sighed, and Lance watched as he immediately unbuttoned his varsity jacket, shrugged out of it, and held it out to Lance. “Here.”

“Oh no, I’ll be fine,” Lance said, even though his fingers were itching to grab the jacket and slip it on. Sometimes, he still didn’t want to admit just _how much_ he loved it when Keith went all attentive-boyfriend-mode. Especially because they continuously denied any romantic tension going on between them.

Keith rolled his eyes as he said, “You steal it pretty much every day, and _now_ suddenly you don’t want it? I’ll remember that.”

Lance pouted. “I didn’t say I don’t _want_ it!” He huffed. “Fine, I’ll take it. But don’t complain if _you_ end up sick and unable to play later.” Finally, he took the jacket and immediately slipped his arms into the sleeves. He closed it and bent his face down so he could bury his chin in the collar.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I have a turtleneck sweater. And you know I don’t get sick that easily,” Keith pointed out.

“Yeah, but one day you _will_ , and it’ll be me who’ll have to take care of you. I don’t want to hear any complaints.”

“We’ll see about that when we get there,” Keith said. “And why would I complain about that? You already fuss over me all the time anyway.” When there were giggles from the nearby parking spaces, Keith motioned for Lance to mount the bike. When they were both seated he asked, “Ready?”

“Ready,” Lance replied. His arms were wrapped tightly around Keith’s middle

“Let’s go, then.” Keith revved up the engine and took off.

If Lance was honest, this might be one of his favorite parts every Thursday night. He loved riding on Keith’s bike, holding on tight and leaning against Keith as closely as he could. If only he could lean his cheek against Keith’s neck, nuzzle against his hair, then everything would be perfect. But of course, the bike wasn’t the place for that.

Even though Lance was so tired, the ride was over much too soon for his liking. They entered the dormitory in silence.

When they had to part ways to go to their rooms, Lance started to open the jacket so he could give it back.

However, Keith stopped him. “Keep it. You can just wear it in the morning.”

Lance shrugged and said, “Okay then.” Then, he smiled. “Good night, Keith. Sweet dreams.”

Keith returned the smile as he replied, “You too, Lance. Sweet dreams.”

That night, Lance fell asleep hugging Keith’s jacket against his chest along with his plush lioness. He held the fabric as near to his face as he could so Keith’s scent would reach his nose and lull him to sleep. His last thought as he lost consciousness was wondering whether Keith reacted to his clothes carrying Lance’s smell when getting them back the same way Lance did whenever he stole Keith’s clothes in the first place.

 

4.

Soon enough, Lance had to admit defeat. He couldn’t do this anymore. Denying his feelings for Keith while they were pretty much acting like a couple—it was just too much. It felt like a heavy black hole in his heart, consuming him from the inside. He had to do _something_ , before the painful longing would eat him whole. Since it didn’t seem like Keith would ever say a word, Lance would have to take a step and hope for the best, even knowing that rejection would shatter his heart into pieces. Just the fear of that possibility was enough to shake him to the core.

But maybe that was still better than this slow, sweet torture of a quasi-relationship but knowing it wasn’t that, would never be if no one took the first step. It would feel good to _do_ something about it, even if he might not have the courage to _say_ it yet. Hopefully, it would be a brief pain, like ripping off a bandaid very fast.

It took some pondering, but Lance finally decided he would strike on the day of the final match of the season. That way, if all else failed and he chickened out of making his feelings clear, he could play it off as part of the excitement, as just part of their usual shenanigans. In his heart, he hoped this wouldn’t have to be the case.

As for _what_ he was gonna do—he planned to make a good luck charm. He bought supplies and spent the evening before the match stringing star-shaped plastic pearls on a strong elastic to make a hair tie. _Red and blue stars_ , _their_ colors, alternated, aligned in a perfect circle. Keith always wore his hair tied back for soccer, so this would be easy to pull off. Hopefully, Keith would catch the symbolism, or at least think it was a cute gift rather than silly.

When he laid down for sleep that night, Lance had to put on calming piano music to get his heart-rate to slow down. Thinking about the _other_ thing he was gonna do, it was nerve-wracking, but he knew he needed a good night’s sleep.

All through the morning, he tried to psyche himself up with any and all techniques he had ever heard of. He tried to avoid Keith as best as he could, not knowing how it would affect his ability to pull through.

Finally, the time had come. Lance excused himself from his friends without offering an explanation (thankfully, they also agreed when he pleaded for them to bring his hand-painted banner for him when they’d join a bit later). He knew that the soccer team were on their way to the lockers right now. _Everyone_ would be there to witness, but this was the one chance Lance had; earlier, the timing would have been wrong, later than that would be impossible.

As he jogged down the grounds to catch up, he called out, “Keith! Wait!”

Keith turned around and waited until Lance came to a halt in front of him before he asked, “What’s up?”

Lance replied, “Your ponytail is a mess. Turn around and let me fix it.” He had planned ahead how to best make this work—by pretending his usual fussing over Keith’s hair. He hoped his voice didn’t betray his terribly frazzled nerves.

Keith rolled his eyes, but turned around without protest. While Lance was busy tying Keith’s hair with the special hair tie—thankful that his hands didn’t tremble—Keith asked, “Was there anything else, or did you just run all the way here this early just so you could make a fuss over my hair like you always do?”

But Lance didn’t reply until Keith touched his hair, feeling the stars with his fingers, and turned around to look at him with eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Lance explained, “A hair tie with red and blue stars, because, you know. It’s, it’s for good luck.”

“Oh.” Keith blinked before he smiled softly. His voice was full of honeymilk-warmth when he said, “Thank you, Lance. I’m sure it’ll help me win.”

Lance shuffled one foot and fidgeted with his sleeves. It was now or never. “There’s, there’s something else. Another good luck charm.”

Keith tilted his head as he asked, “What is it?”

Lance didn’t reply, not with words, at least. His heart was jumping up his throat and thrumming in his ears as he closed his eyes and leaned in to press his lips to Keith’s. Lance wished he could make it last, but, well, it was their _first_ , he was dying from nerves, and Keith showed no reaction. And so, he pulled away—just when Keith started to kiss back. Lance’s entire face felt on fire from that brief taste of a kiss. Keith was staring at him in wonder. All Lance managed to squeak out was, “So, uh, yeah. I’m gonna be right at the front to cheer you on. You better win this for me!”

He ran off to the entrance for viewers before Keith could have a chance to say anything in response. Lance knew he was early, but that just meant he was able to score the best position in the usual part of the stands—right in the front near one of the goals. His friends showed up after a short while, bringing his hand-painted banner along. Thankfully, they didn’t question his nervous-giddy state. He took a deep breath as he rolled out the banner to hold it up. He had to cheer for Keith and his team. His little are-we-dating-or-are-we-not confusion with Keith had to wait till later.

Lance always loved watching the team warm up before a game. It helped him calm down and really get into the spirit. He knew that Galra’s team with their captain, Lotor, were a tough opponent. But Lance was confident that Keith and his friends would win.

When it came time for kick-off, Keith was able to pick the sides; like usual, he picked to defend the goal in front of Lance and his friends first. Lance rocked back and forth in excitement. Wouldn’t it just be sweet if he got to witness Keith score a goal, all close-up, in the second half?

The match started out as tough as expected. Lance had to watch as Lotor scored and had many close chances. Keith equalized for Voltron before the halftime whistle, but the tension was tangible even on the stands.

When the teams came back for the second half, Lance’s cheers increased. He indulged himself in the thought that his voice would carry all the way to Keith’s ears. When the players took their positions, Lance saw that Keith was redoing his ponytail. Lance’s eyes widened. Was it just his imagination, or did Keith touch the red-and-blue stars hair tie to his lips for the briefest second? Even if it hadn’t happened, Lance’s heart skipped a beat at the idea.

It was obvious that Voltron had found new energy during the break. Out of everyone on the field, Keith’s play was the most passionate; he was now the one with most chances, even if he didn’t manage to score just yet.

With time starting to run low, the game got messier. Lance had to watch as Keith was fouled as he was running close to the goal. He held his breath as Keith walked up for the penalty shot himself. Lance thought he saw Keith seek his face in the crowd before he ran up to shoot the ball—a perfect shot, the ball sailing right past the goalkeeper into the upper left corner.

The crowd erupted into cheers so loud it was deafening. Lance thought his own voice might leave him from how much he was cheering. It continued when just a moment later, the whistle sounded and it was official that Voltron had won the cup.

Everyone in the stands was hugging each other like the players on the field, full of laughter. Lance leaned over the railing as he waited for the players to be done shaking hands with the opponent and start their tour along the bleachers.

When Keith came up in front of him and reached out, Lance expected that Keith would take his hand. Instead, he got something entirely unexpected: Keith grabbed his face, leaned in, and kissed him hard on the lips. Right here, in the soccer field, in front of the entire school. Lance thought he felt his heart stop and all sound leaving his ears. It was like he was in an isolated bubble, just him and Keith and their lips moving against each other.

When they parted for breath, Keith gazed at him with indigo eyes shining full of affection and a grin as wide as Lance had never seen on his face. His own smile probably looked ridiculous with how dazed he felt.

Their gazes remained locked until a reprimanding shout from Kolivan brought them back to reality. “You can kiss your boyfriend all you want later, Keith! We still have stuff to do!”

Keith turned to jog away, yelling, “We aren’t dating!”

Lance’s heart dropped. He had to join the yell of denial, but he felt hollow. Had it really been so foolish to hope? Why had Keith kissed Lance so passionately if he didn’t want to date? Why did he give so many mixed signals? Lance didn’t know what to do. He was torn between celebrating the victory with everyone else and wanting to cry out in frustration.

And yet, even through the ache in his chest, he snatched Keith’s jacket when Keith joined with his friends and just had it slung over his arms. He wanted to make pretend for just a while longer.

 

5.

The night of the victory, some students had organized a spontaneous party. Lance was always up for casual parties especially when he knew his friends were around. Tonight, it was also a welcome opportunity to calm his nerves before he would finally _talk it out_ with Keith. Because he had come to the conclusion that the mixed signals had to mean one thing: that Keith indeed liked him back, but was just as confused about what to do about this tricky situation they had found themselves in.

Either way, he was set on enjoying the night—still wearing Keith’s varsity jacket even despite the heat on the dancefloor.

After Keith had kissed him in the middle of the soccer field and with Lance wearing the jacket, people were dead convinced in their assumptions now. Wearing Keith’s name on his back had a really nice side effect, too: people left him alone on the dancefloor. Sure, Lance loved dancing with friends, but he really didn’t want to dance with any random people when the one person he wanted to dance with was Keith.

Lance was so caught up in dancing to the music and chatting with friends that he lost track both of time and of how many beer he had through the night. Before he knew it, Rolo and Nyma were guiding him to a sofa while he was giggling without even knowing the reason why.

He was feeling great. Except for one thing—Keith wasn’t there with him. And so, he asked, “Where’s Keith?”

“He’s at the back,” Rolo replied.

Lance pouted. “Why’s he back there? I want him here. Or I want to be there. I don’t care. I want Keith.”

“Uh-huh,” Nyma said.

“Where _is_ Keith?” Lance tried to scan the room, eyes darting over the crowds. “I can’t even see him. Where is he?”

“Want me to get him for you?” Rolo’s voice was patient, but amused at the same time. What was so funny? Jeez, was it a crime that a guy wanted to be with his quasi-boyfriend after they had a really _amazing_ kiss they never spoke about for hours?

“Please!” Lance’s tone might’ve been whinier than intended. He didn’t care. “I want to dance with him. I want to cuddle. I don’t care. Just give me Keith.”

“Alright, alright. I’m gonna get him, he’ll take you home,” Rolo said. “Nyma, make sure everything’s alright.”

“Sure thing,” Nyma said. Lance was faintly aware that she was sitting next to him, patting his back.

What happened next was a bit of a blur. Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder and an unmistakable, gravelly voice said, “Hey.”

Lance’s head snapped up and he immediately broke into a smile. He wrapped his arms around Keith and nuzzled against his stomach. “Keith! Keith! I love you, Keith!”

Lance could feel Keith’s chuckle against his face. He heard Keith say, “I know. Let’s go home, okay?”

“Only if you carry me,” Lance mumbled against Keith’s stomach.

There was the briefest pause before Keith said, “Okay. I can do that.” Before he knew it, Lance was lifted up and strong arms were holding him bridal style. Keith asked, “Like this?”

Lance smiled up at his face. “Mmmm… my hero.” But suddenly, he felt too tired to keep his head up. He nuzzled it against the crook of Keith’s neck, taking in the comforting scent of Keith’s hair and skin. “Is this like the bonding moment you were so upset about me forgetting?” he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was exactly like that. I cradled you in my arms just like this.”

Lance giggled. Then he mumbled, “I’m sorry I forgot about it. I might forget about this one, too. I’m sorry.”

When Keith spoke again, his voice was impossibly soft and gentle. “Hey, no need to apologize. I’m not mad. Not anymore.” Lance felt the world move as Keith adjusted his hold and started to walk. “Let’s go home.”

Lance had his eyes closed the entire way, just enjoying the feeling of being in Keith’s arms, and breathing in his scent. But when he heard the sound of a door unlocking and shutting, and when he was gently set down on a bed, he opened his eyes and looked around in surprise. “This isn’t my room.”

“No. It’s mine,” Keith replied.

Unsure how to process this, Lance let out a drawn-out “Oh.” Then, his eyes fell on the red and blue stars right beneath the band of a fingerless glove on Keith’s wrist. Lance couldn’t hold back the delighted smile. “You kept the hair tie! It looks weird with your gloves. But I like it.”

“Of course I kept it! It’s the special good luck charm you gave me to win the match, after all.” Keith was smiling back at him. Then he said, “Come on, let’s take off that jacket so you can sleep.”

“Can’t I keep it on? I love your jacket.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Keith said, tone amused. “But that’s bound to be uncomfortable. You can have it back tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Lance didn’t protest anymore and let Keith help him out of the jacket. “But if I’m sleeping on the bed, then where are _you_ sleeping?”

“Uh… I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“You should sleep with me,” Lance offered. “Share the bed, I mean. Cuddle me. That would be nice.”

There was a brief pause before Keith finally replied, “Okay. I guess we can do that.” He took off Lance’s shoes before his hands froze as they hovered above Lance’s legs and he looked up, clearing his throat. “You, uh, you should do the rest yourself.”

“That’s too bad,” Lance sighed. “I’ve always dreamed of you taking my clothes off.”

Those unfiltered words gained a sharp intake of breath from Keith. When Lance started to unzip his jeans, Keith abruptly turned away. Once Lance was stripped down to just his underwear and t-shirt, he slipped under the covers. At the same time, he watched Keith strip down. Lance couldn’t believe he was so lucky he got to see Keith in his underwear, while about to sleep _in Keith’s bed_ , with a promise of _cuddling_.

A moment later, Keith joined him. When Keith wrapped his arms around him, Lance instinctively snuggled closer. He could hear Keith mumble, “This kinda makes it harder to keep saying we’re not dating.”

“We should stop then.”

“Huh?”

“We should stop saying that. We should start dating.” Lance sighed. “We practically have been the whole time.”

He didn’t know if Keith said anything else. He had been so tired he fell asleep the moment the words had left his lips, with the feeling of Keith’s heartbeat comforting against his chest, and being held in Keith’s arms like he had wished for so long.

 

+1

The next time Lance was growing aware again, all he felt was warmth and comfort. Strong arms around him, his hands holding onto a toned chest, the skin-on-skin of tangled legs underneath the blanket. His favorite scent in his nose, soft hair against his face. He thought he could feel the ghost of a kiss against his scalp, a silent breath of a sigh, but maybe it was just his half-asleep imagination. Maybe all of this was just a very detailed, sensory dream.

Eventually, he couldn’t keep sleeping anymore. He stirred awake with a soft moan, and when he blinked his eyes open, he looked right at Keith’s face. Keith, who was smirking and said, “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Good morning,” Lance mumbled. His throat felt a little dry. He let go of Keith’s shirt with one hand so he could rub the sleep from his eyes. “How did I get here? We didn’t, uh—”

“You wanted me to carry you home. I didn’t want to leave you on your own, so I brought you to my room. You insisted on cuddling,” Keith explained. “And that’s all that happened. No getting naked, even though you commented that you wanted me to take your clothes off.”

“O-oh.” Lance hesitated as he tried to process Keith’s words. “Did I, uh, say anything else?”

“You said a lot of things.”

“Anything weird, I mean.”

“Uh, well…” Keith paused before he said, “When I came to get you at the party, you hugged me and said you loved me. You apologized for forgetting about the bonding moment. And also that we should stop saying we’re not dating because we basically have been the whole time. That was right before you fell asleep in my arms.”

“I said all of that? Shit.” Lance detached his other hand so he could bury his face in both of his palms. “I didn’t mean to confess while drunk, of all things.”

“So you, you meant everything?” Keith asked, voice unreadable.

“Yes! Oh god, this is terrible.” Sure, Lance had wanted to talk about this, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He barely even remembered, and he was kinda hungover. He felt just a little panicked.

“Would it still be terrible if I said I wouldn’t mind if we started dating?” Keith asked in a murmur.

“Wait—really?” Lance put his hands down, staring at Keith with wide eyes. “All this time, I thought you didn’t want to date, because you were so adamant about correcting people.”

“Well, so did you,” Keith pointed out defensively.

“Only because I thought you didn’t feel the same, and I didn’t want to make things awkward by bringing my feelings into the mix!” Well, Lance had tried to psyche himself up the previous night believing that Keith _did_ like him back so he’d have the courage to talk; but all the time leading up to this, these words had stood true.

“So—all this time, we could have been dating, but we denied it to everyone, including ourselves?” Keith asked.

“Oh my god. We’re idiots. We’re goddamn idiots. How are we this ridiculous?” Lance broke into soft laughter. Keith joined in. Maybe it was just the hangover speaking, but Lance felt like he was in a rom-com movie.

When their laughter quieted down, Keith said, “We should get up. You need a good breakfast after last night.”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I’m hungry. And a breakfast date sounds really nice. I’ve always wanted to have one of those with you.” He smiled as he spoke.

Keith finally let go of him and they both got up. Lance stood in place by the bed, watching as Keith got dressed. Lance didn’t want to wear jeans right now, nor did he want to keep wearing the shirt he had just slept in, and he didn’t have any spare clothes. The logical conclusion would be to take something from Keith’s closet like he had been doing so often in the past months. But suddenly, Lance felt a bit shy, even though they _were_ officially dating now.

When Keith turned around to walk back to the nightstand, he raised a quizzical eyebrow as he gave Lance a once-over. “You wanna have breakfast in your underwear?” he asked. “As sexy as that is, a public space probably isn’t the right place for this.”

“What? No!” Lance felt his face heat up. “I just—I, uh, I feel like wearing something more comfy today. Can I borrow some sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt?”

Keith rolled his eyes as he pointed out, “Lance, you’ve been stealing my clothes for ages, and we’re boyfriends now. _Of course_ you can.”

“Well _excuse_ me for wanting to make sure it’s okay!” Lance huffed as he walked up to Keith’s closet to grab some sweatpants and a t-shirt. It might seem like he was grabbing at random, but he knew that this particular pair made his legs look even slimmer and longer, while the t-shirt was comfortable while hugging his form nicely. He was pretty sure that Keith appreciated his choice. After he was dressed, he said, “I _really_ like the sound of that, though. Stealing my boyfriend’s clothes.”

Keith grinned at him. “Well, I like the sight of my boyfriend _wearing my_ clothes, so I guess it’s a perfect match.”

“I’m taking your jacket too,” Lance announced, though he didn’t even wait for a reply as he picked it up.

“Of course. It’s basically a permanent part of you now.” Keith let out a laugh before he asked, “Ready to go?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

They left the room and held hands the whole way to the dining hall. They only let go to load food onto their trays and walk to a table. When they sat down next to each other, their knees were bumping under the tabletop.

They started out eating in silence, but then Keith asked, “Wanna come watch us train today?”

“You still have practice even after winning yesterday?”

“Yeah. Kolivan never gives us breaks. He especially won’t when he finds out there was a party last night. Even if Shiro was there too and most of us take it slow.”

“I guess it makes sense, since you never take a break on your own either,” Lance remarked.

“So will you come?” Keith repeated his question.

“You sure it’s okay if I watch?” Lance glanced at Keith.

“You’ve been to practice before. And I’d be happy knowing my boyfriend is there to watch me.” When he said the last part, Keith was looking at Lance.

Lance smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. “Alright. In that case, I guess I’ll be there.”

“Nice.” Keith smiled back.

For the rest of the meal, they went back to comfortable silence. They’d still have all the time of the world to talk later. For now, this was perfect.

When they were done eating, they walked back to their floor together, but then separated for their own rooms to get ready. Lance brushed his teeth and tried to make his skincare routine as short as possible while still being thorough about it. He didn’t want to make Keith wait too long. When Lance left the room, Keith was already standing by the door. Lance beamed when Keith took his hand and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

They shared a kiss in front of the locker room. As they finally parted, Lance watched him disappear through the door before he walked to find a good place to stand.

He watched as the soccer players trickled onto the field and started jogging laps like they always did to warm up. He raised an eyebrow when Keith jogged off track to meet him, only for his heart to skip a beat when Keith gave him a hearty kiss. With his eyes closed, Lance was beginning to forget about his surroundings, getting lost in the sensation of Keith’s lips moving against his. The kiss was softer than when Keith had kissed him after the game, more sensual instead of adrenaline-fueled, but Lance could still feel the fire that was ever-burning inside Keith. He _loved_ it. He could stay like this forever, but the shrill sound of a whistle brought him back to reality.

Lance badly wanted to chase Keith’s lips when he pulled back. They were gazing into each other’s eyes even while Kolivan yelled, “No kissing your boyfriend during training! That’s one extra lap for you, Keith!”

Keith glanced over his shoulder to yell back, “Sorry, Kolivan! I’ll be right back!” But instead of jogging off, he leaned right back in to press his lips against Lance’s once more.

Lance tried to sound strict as he scolded, “Don’t get yourself into trouble because of me, you’re the captain.” He knew that his giddy smile betrayed him, though.

“You’re worth it,” Keith said with a grin and as if to prove a point, he stole another peck.

Keith was still grinning when he finally turned away to return to the warmup, and Lance felt warm all over because _he_ had caused this. _He_ was the reason he got to see this happiness written allover Keith’s face, the same happiness he felt himself. Kolivan announced loudly that Keith had to run _three_ extra laps now. Lance could see that the grin still didn’t leave Keith’s face.

The voices of the soccer players carried over to Lance.

“What did we tell you about PDA?” One of the guys said in a mock-scold.

“Sorry, guys, my boyfriend is just too irresistible.”

Lance’s heart skipped a beat once more as he heard Keith’s words. Hearing him say it so casually now. _He was Keith’s boyfriend_. Keith called him _irresistible_ , maybe prompted by the fact Lance was wearing his jacket. Gosh, Lance was floating away to seventh heaven right there.

“Oh? No more denying?”

“Nope, we stopped being idiots.”

A chorus of voices all over the field like a hivemind called, “It was about time.”

Lance nearly started laughing, just like when he and Keith had finally got over all the layers of confusion and denial. He wondered just when exactly the soccer team had started to see that they were clearly head over heels for each other. Maybe he could bribe the information from them one day, just to satisfy his curiousity.

Watching the team practice was the same as always, the way they were sticking to routine as they worked on agility, practiced different moves and scenarios that could happen in a game. Lance could watch them forever, even if it wasn’t as exciting as an actual match. Of course, his eyes always followed his boyfriend, clapping and cheering for him whenever he pulled off something cool.

Later, Keith confessed to him that Lance had always been his biggest motivation. Especially now, with the red-and-blue stars hair-tie, and because they were _together_ , wholly and officially.

Lance couldn’t wait till he, as well, would be able to announce it to the whole world. Finally, there was no more denying.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's links to the amazing fanart for this fic!  
> [The "indirect kiss" scene](https://twitter.com/Maxiemax0413/status/1028299971127205888)  
> [The first kiss scene](http://coralreefskim.tumblr.com/post/169423671923)  
> [The second kiss scene](https://naranshil.tumblr.com/post/177268009867/a-commission-for-crystalklances-from-their-fic)  
> ["Let's go home, okay?"](http://astereli.tumblr.com/post/178867180525)
> 
> I'm on [twitter](http://twitter.com/crystalklances) and [tumblr](http://crystalklances.tumblr.com) where you can find out about ways you can support me!


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